


Timebombs & Hurricanes

by xstarxchaserx



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, First Kiss, Hannibal is a Cannibal, HannigramFirstKissChallenge, M/M, Post Fall, Post TWOTL, What else is new?, Will is a Mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 21:18:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13152234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xstarxchaserx/pseuds/xstarxchaserx
Summary: Snapshots of Will Graham's life, before and after.





	Timebombs & Hurricanes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hannigram First Kiss Challenge on Tumblr. You can find me on there at [xstarxchaserx.](http://www.xstarxchaserx.tumblr.com)
> 
> Title comes from the song [Timebombs and Hurricanes by Written by Wolves.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GdeH_FbO-co) It's a great song, and I totally recommend you check out this band. I'm mildly obsessed with their music at the moment.

**10.**

From a very young age, Will learned that — no matter what he saw, no matter what he _knew_ — keeping his mouth shut was the safest option.

It did not, in fact, make his father feel better to know that his 9 year old son knew about his alcohol addiction and inability to hold down a job, no matter how matter of factly the information was delivered. It _definitely_ didn’t make him feel better knowing that his son knew that the reason for all of that was because his mother had walked out on them when the stress of having a child became too much to bear.

Yes, silence was the safer option. 

Shame that his brain never knew how to shut up.

**9.**

He saw it. He saw it right there, written all over the perp’s face. 

A thief. The gun in his hand was stolen. The hesitation. The double-triple-quadruple quick checks to make sure the safety was actually off. 

Will’s own hands shook as he aimed at the influx of information he was getting. 

The man had never done this before. Never been confronted. _Jesus,_ his family was just hungry and now these people had seen his face and _what choice did he have?_

When the bullet hit him, Will knew he was finished.

**8.**

“It would help you make ends meet, Will.”

“Those who can’t do, teach. Right?” 

“It’s not like that.”

“It’s definitely like that.”

**7.**

“My horse is hitched to a post that is closer to Aspergers and autistics than narcissists and sociopaths.”

“But you can empathize with narcissists and sociopaths?”

“I can empathize with anybody. It’s less to do with a personality disorder than an active imagination.”

Too close. Too much. Touching, in his space, on his _things_ , and he knew exactly where this was going.

“Can I… borrow your imagination?”

**6.**

A suit that cost more than Will’s entire wardrobe. Lilting accent, yet comfortable enough with the language. Quick thinking, uncomfortably observational, prefers discussing things in circumnavigational routes with the occasional exception of unflinching bluntness. 

_Dangerous._

“I don’t find you very interesting.” 

_A lie._

“You will.”

_A promise._

**5.**

He stood, shaking, over the lifeless form of Randal Tier. 

The shaking was caused by the influx of adrenaline in his system. He knew, logically, that it should be fear or revulsion or anger causing the spike in endorphins. It wasn’t. It was power, pure and simple, and he knew that he would relish the skin splitting on his knuckles for days afterward no matter how much he wished he wouldn’t.

A different sort of adrenaline flowed though him on his way to Hannibal’s. Pride. Some of the anger slipping in.

Still, that undercurrent of power. 

He was a predator walking into another predator’s lair, and knew that he would emerge with the upper hand. 

Nothing he had ever tasted in Hannibal’s dining room was quite as delicious as the look on Hannibal’s face when he saw what Will had done.

“Even Steven.”

**4.**

She should have stayed dead. She should have stayed dead and gone and lost to the stream in his dreams. She should have run, hid, reached out to him, escaped. He knew, even as he watched the knife slice her open, as he felt his own guts spilling out of him, that he couldn’t forgive her for falling into the web that Hannibal wove them into.

“Put your head back.”

He knew, also, that he would forgive Hannibal for this. 

“Close your eyes.”

No matter how much he wanted to run, he knew he would.

“Wade into the quiet of the stream.”

But for now, the rivers in his mind ran red with blood, and he let himself drown.

**3.**

He knows, as the words force their way past his vocal cords, the they are all lies.

“I’m not going to miss you… I’m not going to find you… I’m not going to look for you… I don’t want to know where you are or what you do.”

He almost chokes.

“I don’t want to think about you anymore.”

_But I will, I will, gods, I will._

**2.**

When was the last time someone held him? He was certain he had embraced Molly at some point in recent memory, but it was all grey and distant through the haze of the pain and the ferocious clarity of his present. 

This was Hannibal. It was Hannibal’s arms that were wrapped around him.

“It’s beautiful.”

It made his heart hurt. 

“This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.”

_Us._

So many, many things Will hadn’t let himself think of in so long, far too long. How had he forgotten how much he _ached?_

He swallowed whatever words he couldn’t bring himself to say along with half the Atlantic. 

_I’m sorry._

**1.**

It happened when they were stopped in a small cabin outside of Lövånger, Sweden.

Hannibal’s lips were still cold from the snow and tasted like the brandy Will had poured for them both. 

It was a slow, gentle slide. A sharing of breath. A soft sigh. Until it wasn’t. 

Then it was hungry and wanting and filled with desperation that Will thought had left him. They clung to each other like they had however long ago, on the cliff, as they fell. 

_It was all a lie. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I forgive you. I’m sorry._

_I love you._

_I love you._

“I love you.”


End file.
